


can we deal with this body swap and still come out on top without any teardrops

by lazybug



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Angst, Bodyswap, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Rating May Change, Showers, Tickle Fights, well kind of not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-04-24 04:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazybug/pseuds/lazybug
Summary: A mix of foodstuffs goes wrong on set and causes Rhett and Link to switch bodies. Trials and tribulations ensue, and maybe the occasional realizing you're in love with your best friend moment.





	1. Chapter 1

Josh never intended for this to happen, Link thinks. How could he? It wasn’t like Josh was actively a potion-maker. It just sorta happens sometimes when you mix the weirdest things that you can find on the internet together. Right? 

They had called cut by the time that either of them began to feel that anything was off. But when Link starts to stand, he’s hit with a sharp pain in his back that he isn’t used to. And his knee hits the chair directly to the left of him, rather than the usual nothingness that he’s used to. 

He glances up and startles in a way that he assumes looks comical. He sees himself staring back. 

“Rhett?” he asks but his voice is too low and wavering. He wants to laugh at the look on the other man’s face, his own face. It’s such a Rhett look, with his eyebrows scrunched and his lips pursed like he wants to laugh and scream at the same time, eyes wild and wide. 

Link actively looks down at Rhett and feels strangely triumphant in the fact that, yes, he is taller. He watches the changes take over Rhett’s face until it finally seems to click.

When Rhett finally catches on to the situation, he laughs all flighty and high, moving to cover his mouth with his hand. Link was so used to looking at himself on a screen but in real life, it’s weirder than he expected. It’s like he’s seeing Rhett react. But it’s him and he’s seeing himself impersonate Rhett, who is Rhett. Is he Rhett?

He can feel his fingers twitching at his sides and he wants to say something to break this weird moment. His mouth tries to form words but no sound comes out. Instead, he settles on a head tilt and squints at his partner. He briefly considers that this is a weird trip and that Josh got them really high. After clearing his throat a few times, he tries to talk again. “This is real, right?” he manages. 

The bark of a laugh that answers is clue enough that yes, this is real, and yes, that is most definitely Rhett in his body. Using his body. Switched into his body. “Gosh, you know how weird you—I—You? sound when you laugh like that?” He cringes but he’s smiling, his arms pulled tightly across his body. He wants to move and worm his way away from all of this but he’s stuck. He feels even more clumsy than usual, his arms too long and his balance off. He briefly blames the new altitude for throwing off his senses. He pushes up his glasses, or tries to, before realizing that he doesn’t have them. The vulnerability that the realization causes is surprising.

Rhett’s smiling too and Link’s heart does a weird flip-flop motion. It’s not what his own smile looks like, Link knows. “Is that what my voice sounds like?” Rhett says, a chuckle laced underneath it all. Link rolls his eyes because of course it is, he’s heard it from any audio recording ever. “Hey,” Rhett says, faux-offended, “don’t roll my eyes at me, man.” 

“Your eyes.”

“Yeah, my eyes. You, Link, are rolling my, Rhett, eyes.” He gestures to Link and then himself. 

Link wants to fight that logic, he does, but Rhett was right. So he does the normal thing and rolls his eyes again, only to receive a slap on the arm for his troubles. 

The indignant sniff he does only serves to make him feel even more out of place. He can smell the hair product in his hair when he moves and the slight tang of the disgusting food potion that Josh concocted. He blinks. Smells again. 

It hits him then that this really isn’t his body. It isn’t his body and he is so scared for the first time since he realized. He feels trapped and his clothes feel too tight. The tickle on his upper lip isn’t exactly foreign but it isn’t welcome, either. His face feels hot. His heart is beating so loudly in his ears. He feels it thump too harshly against his ribcage. He wants to get out but everywhere his eyes land, there is another obstacle in his way. 

This isn’t his body.

The sound of Rhett’s hand landing on his upper arm echoes in Link’s head. He feels himself blink again, too consciously aware of everything that his body was doing. He closes his eyes instead. 

“Just breathe, buddy. It’s alright. We’re gonna figure this out. Breathe for me.” Both of Rhett’s hands are on his arms, thumbs rubbing back and forth in a comforting gesture, fingers squeezing in a rhythmic sort of pattern. Link tries to follow it with his breathing, grounding himself in the present. He knows they could figure out, that Rhett would handle it. He gives it a few moments, unsure of how much time passes or how much Rhett really says. 

When he thinks he has enough of himself under control, he opens his eyes and nods to himself. When his gaze falls to Rhett like it so normally does, he notices the one corner of Rhett’s mouth quirk up in that “it’s-gonna-be-okay” way he conveys so well. Even if it is on Link’s face. 

It takes a few minutes before they’re situated in the privacy of their office. Link needs to raise and lower his chair at least 6 times before he’s comfortable. Rhett goes to sprawl on the couch only to realize that he can curl up comfortably now. After that, Rhett fishes his phone out of his pocket, ready to deep dive into Google. The mild look of confusion on his face makes Link remember that their entire bodies switched, which means that they had one another’s phones.

Rhett just stares at Link’s phone in disbelief when it unlocks without having to put in the passcode. He triumphantly announces that he has access to all of Link’s dirty secrets with face recognition set up, as if he didn’t already know the passcode. Still, Link freezes and gets up to grab his phone back from Rhett. 

It shouldn’t have surprised him to find that Rhett put up a fight. Rhett scrambles to his feet, and in such an uncoordinated way in which Link would equate to a baby horse learning to ice skate, stands, and immediately holds Link’s phone as high above his head as he can. For a very brief moment, Link can see that Rhett thinks he’ll win. And why wouldn’t he? It normally works that way. Only, it’s like he forgot what happened. 

When Link steps into his space with his chest puffed out and a smirk on his face, Rhett’s confidence falls. The panic sets in as he pulls his hand down and cradles the phone in both hands in the center of his chest, his arms and wrists trying to create a barrier around his hands. He curls his body slightly away from Link, nervous. Link laughs, giddy as all hell, hands poised to grab what he wanted. 

He gets closer and closer to Rhett until he’s basically cornered him against the couch. Rhett’s looking up at him in defiance but Link can see the inkling of worry too.  
Up this close, he can feel Rhett’s breath puffing out and can smell his own deodorant on him. He sees his own blue eyes shining and briefly misses his friend’s green ones. He deflates a little, disappointed. 

He swallows, pushing through and preparing for the fight of his life. He wasn’t giving up that easy. “Give me my phone, Rhett,” he says, a warning. His fingers are poised and ready. He knows the attack has to be personalized to his own ticklish spots, ones that he assumes Rhett knows, but not like Link does. He knows exactly where to go to make himself break. He starts a countdown at ten just to see how Rhett will react. 

“Nine.” He’s rewarded with wide eyes looking back and forth between his face and his hands. Rhett tenses up more, clutches the phone more tightly. “Eight.” He glances briefly to the door and to the ladder, judging silently if he could escape. He must settle on not being able to run because he squares his jaw and lets out a breath. “Seven.” 

Link brings his hands closer to Rhett, gauging his reaction closer. Rhett’s jaw is clenched. The line of his body is huddled over like he’s protecting the most sensitive parts. “Six.” He lets that one sit in the air a while, a little huff of a laugh coming through. Link huddles closer, hands ready to strike.

“Fivefourthree!” he yells quickly and Rhett jumps. He actually jumps and holds one hand out away from his body to swat at Link’s hands. At this point, Rhett whimpers, the start of a beg forming on the tip of his tongue. Link can practically taste it. “You could just give it to me,” he tries, but Rhett glares in response. 

“Two,” he drawls. 

He sticks one finger out, a tease along Rhett’s ribcage. He feels Rhett’s body tense under him and a surge of something like power flutters in his chest. It’s like possessiveness and giddiness and everything else mixed into one. He sucks in a deep breath, preparing to count down to the last number. The bit always works with his kids. He expected nothing less from Rhett.

“O—”

Rhett squeezes his eyes shut so tightly, cringing. “No, no, no. Please, don’t,” he begs. Yes, he begs, Link can hear himself telling the story already. He was begging so nicely and it didn’t get him anywhere. 

“One.” 

He pounces, fingers digging right under his ribcage and squeezing. He’s laughing maniacally and he doesn’t even care. Rhett crumbles under him, screaming and laughing in the same breath. He follows Rhett to the ground, still tickling him. He plants himself right above Rhett, practically sitting on his thighs. 

Rhett’s kicking his feet and flailing one arm, the other he keeps clutched to his chest, though moving it to try to conceal the most ticklish parts of himself. Link isn’t even grabbing for his phone anymore but going for the worst spots at his neck, under his arms, on his belly, and the fleshy bits of his sides. 

Rhett’s practically crying now, his torso twisting to try to buck Link off. The phone clattered to the ground moments ago and he’s pushing at Link’s chest. With the added height, Link now has the upper hand. Rhett realizes this belatedly. “Give,” he tries, “I give. Give, give, I give!” 

Link pities him, sees the tears in the corners of his eyes and the way his chest is heaving under him. So, he sits back on his haunches (which means he’s essentially on Rhett’s thighs now) and does the only thing he can do in a moment like this: “I’m dead.” 

The satisfying “oof” he hears under him is enough to make his smile crack wider. Underneath him, Rhett’s chest meets his and pushes up as best as it can to suck in more air. For a second, Link’s worried that he knocked the air out of Rhett’s chest until he chuckles out a “Touché.” 

They both smell like exertion mixed with deodorant, sweaty and a somewhat tangy sweet. It’s intoxicating the first breath that Link really sucks in and he can’t really stop after that. He shifts until his head is near the crook of Rhett’s neck and inhales as subtly as he can, eyes closed. He feels Rhett’s breath hitch, hears it a split second later. 

He can only imagine the look Rhett’s giving him, eyebrows pinches, eyes narrowed, lips curled in a confused snarl. “You sniffin’ me, man?” He still sounds out of breath. His arms rest on the ground by his sides, but they twitch slightly, like he’s going to push Link off or something. 

Link just hums in return, puts his hands more firmly on the ground so he can push up to get a better look at Rhett. “Y’smells good,” he full on mumbles. He’s not even sure what he was going for as a sentence, but it makes air puff out of Rhett’s nose, so he takes it as a win. When his elbows are mostly extended and his chest is a few inches away from Rhett’s, he gives himself the chance to look. 

His hair is disheveled, pieces going every which direction. There’s a flush high on his cheeks and trailing down his neck. There are small beads of sweat on his forehead, some trailing down with gravity’s pull. The tears are gone now but his eyes are a brighter shade of blue from the moisture, pupils slightly dilated. His lips are slightly parted like he can’t decide if he wants to talk or not. He swallows instead. 

Link can’t decide what to make of any of it. There’s a tension he feels when Rhett’s eyes follow his, when Rhett looks over himself. Did he look as, well frankly, freshly fucked? Rhett raises his chin, just a fraction enough for Link to notice it. His eyes bounce back to Rhett’s and he startles himself with how overwhelmed he suddenly feels. 

His breath quickens too much too fast and before Rhett even opens his mouth to say something, he’s backing up, hands pushing from the ground and down Rhett’s chest as he crawls backwards off of him. The moment passes so quickly that Rhett doesn’t even move. “Um,” he says eloquently, ignoring the way his voice sounds raw and open. “We should, uh. Try to. Try to fix the—um—the situation here.” He clears his throat as he stares directly at the ground by his feet, picks at a dirty spot on his shoe. 

He hears Rhett pick up his head and hit it back down against the floor. He makes no other effort to move. “Yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> changed the last chapter from present tense to past tense bc i hate writing in present oops

They searched the internet far and wide, but they came up with nothing. There was nothing that could help them, as far as Link was aware. It was getting late and Link had already run his hands so much through his hair that it was starting to fall flat on his forehead, all of the product brushed out. 

Rhett looked about the same as Link did, he imagined. At the moment, Rhett’s lying face down on the couch, having given up a little bit ago. His legs were bent and his feet waved freely in the air as he breathed. Occasionally, there was a grumble from him and his feet hit the arm of the couch with a frustrated boom. Link couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

Link went to check his watch and frowned when it wasn’t on his wrist. His arm hair was too light and his hands were too big. He remembered for the millionth time that hour that he was in Rhett’s body. “You think we should call a quits?” he asked. He’s tired. Rhett’s seemingly given up entirely if his body language is anything to do by. 

Rhett nodded into the couch cushions. He mumbled again like it didn’t matter if Link even heard him. He assumed it’s a yes; yes, they should give up. For now. It’s not like they could figure it out in just a few hours regardless. It seemed hopeless.

Link put a finger to his lips and stewed in his thoughts for a few minutes. The mustache tickled the tip of his finger, but it felt familiar to when they were filming Buddy System season 2, so he was able to be pretend for the time being.

He felt weirdly dirty and uncomfortable in his skin. Obviously, it wasn’t his skin. But showering always helped him feel better so he figured that it was something he could do. He glanced back at Rhett who may have been napping judging by the steady rise and fall of his back. 

Rather than bothering Rhett, he walked to the bathroom. He didn’t need permission to shower, right? They’d decided that going to their separate homes wasn’t exactly an option at the moment. It would just feel weird. And the office was a neutral space. It’s not like they would splurge on a hotel for no reason when they had everything there already. 

The weirdest part about getting ready to shower was that he had to grab Rhett’s clothes to change back into for after he got out. It’s not like their sizes were that different. He grabbed everything he needed and shuffled back to the bathroom. 

He stripped down in a mechanical sort of way. It felt wrong, he had to admit. It wasn’t his body, it was Rhett’s. It’s not like he hasn’t seen him naked before but this was different. It was intentional and not with Rhett’s consent. It kind of gave him the creeps. 

But then again, for the moment it was his body. This was normal, Link told himself as he got under the warm spray of the shower. Once under the water, his shoulders lowered and a long breath escaped his lips. He tipped his head back, distantly thankful that they made sure that the shower was a good size for Rhett. 

He went through his usual routine on autopilot. He was happy that the water released the tense muscles in his back and neck. As he shampooed his hair, he felt even better, the softness he knew of Rhett’s hair returning under his fingers. The simple act of getting all of the grime and sweat off was rejuvenating in a way Link never tired of. 

He only panicked when he realized that he had to wash his body. His entire body. With a glance down, he grimaced inwardly. This had to be stepping over some sort of line. He decided that he would just keep his eyes up and not look at Rhett’s dick. It wasn’t a big deal. He would only touch it because it was absolutely necessary. 

He took his time scrubbing down his chest, arms, shoulders. He trailed a hand over the indents of muscle over his body when he moved and surprised himself a little. He knew Rhett was going to their personal trainer but he was impressed. As a friend, of course. 

He focused on the smell of his body wash, hoping that it helped masked the smell of Rhett on him. It was a small comfort, he guessed. He didn’t want to smell like Rhett. He wanted Rhett to smell like Rhett. 

Frustrated again with his line of thinking, he scrubbed a hand over his face and wiped the thoughts from his mind. He kept washing his body on autopilot, briefly ghosting over the portion he wanted nothing to do with. He’d get back to it. 

It wasn’t a big deal. So, he got it over with, fingers light and cautious as he lifted, cleaned, stroked, and attempted to move on from there. One twitch of arousal and he was gasping and grappling for the temperature control to blast fully cold water on himself. 

He got out of the shower very quickly after that. 

Link was still toweling his hair dry when he made it back into the office. Rhett was up by then, messing around on his phone. He bounced his leg a little as he sat, unaware that Link came back in. He watched Rhett for a minute, taking in his mannerisms on Link’s own body. 

Rhett still slumped in on himself like it would make him smaller, but it only made him look tiny. His lip was caught in between his teeth, gentle like he didn’t know it was even there. His hand would scratch at his jaw sometimes like he expected beard to be there.  
“I touched your dick.” Shit. “When I was showering.” Not any better. 

Rhett looked at him, amusement sparkling on his features but trying to hide it. He didn’t speak like he was waiting for Link to explain further. God, he knew Link so well. He was so patient, too, just switching his phone from one hand to the other while he waited. 

Link coughed, went to push up his glasses. They weren’t there. “What I mean is that I had to get clean. And that was part of—uh—getting off. There. I mean, getting clean. Not off. I didn’t get you off—me, I mean. I only cleaned your dick.” He played with the towel in his hands and resolutely did not look up. He could feel the heat sitting in his ears and moved to push up his glasses again. 

Rhett hummed. He didn’t say anything else for a while and Link was terrified that for a moment, Rhett was actually upset with him. So, he looked up. Rhett only had a small smirk on his lips and said in a deeper voice than Link thought he was capable of, “You’re allowed to get me off.” 

The strangled noise that came from Link’s throat was something he’d never heard before. Raw, unadulterated shock and, Jesus, arousal. He felt himself flush from head to toe, hot all over. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and didn’t say anything else, refusing eye contact. 

“Am I allowed to get you off?” Rhett asked with an air of innocence so thick that it sounded absolutely filthy.  
“Uh,” Link said, “sure.”  
Rhett nodded and pursed his lips at that, satisfied. And immediately made a beeline for the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Link absolutely panicked when Rhett showered, pacing the span of their office over and over. It’s not like they haven’t seen each other’s dicks before. They grew up together; it was bound to happen. But as adults it happened too. They worked in such close proximity that changing, sharing hotel rooms, and the occasional mishap were normal—expected, even. 

It didn’t stop him from thinking about Rhett’s dick, which was now his dick. Kind of. Rhett probably had Link’s dick in his hand right now. Which was crazy, and made Link feel much different than he would have expected to feel about his best friend touching his dick. It made his knees buckle a little and his head swim like he had just the right amount of alcohol in his system. 

He knew he should feel freaked to all hell. Instead it made every nerve in his body sing. His ears buzzed and his mouth watered a little. There’s no way Rhett wasn’t jerking off just a few feet away. He was taking longer than he usually did when they showered at work. The thought hit him like a headrush. 

He startled when Rhett walked in, the man looking soft and warm in comfortable clothes just a smidgen too big for his hips. He must’ve pulled from his own pile of clothes rather than Link’s. His feet were socked but his shoes were nowhere to be found. He looked so comfortable and Link just wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and push him down on the couch and run his fingers through the dark wet hair sticking to Rhett’s forehead and maybe pull it a little.

At the smirk on Rhett’s face, Link paused. He felt exposed, yet he was fully clothed. Rhett gave him a look, like he could see right through his façade and Link felt even more like his skin was too tight for his body. He hoped to god that Rhett could not read his mind, but attempted to keep every thought of any private parts out of his thoughts for the time being. The flush that crept up his neck made his skin prickle.

Rhett still hadn’t said anything, just took in Link. It was unnerving. He shifted from foot to foot, cocked his head a little to give an air of nonchalance. Link could feel Rhett’s eyes trace his body, his face, his posture. He gulped under the pressure and moved to adjust his glasses again. 

Rhett changed his tactic then like he needed confirmation before doing anything and finally got it, a goofy grin tugging up the corners of his lips. “Hey Link,” he said, humor underlining his tone, “nice dick.” He winked and waited for Link to laugh. The beat lasted too long, both of them seemingly holding their breath. 

He got dizzy with how fast he felt arousal flood his body. It was like an electric current that started at the back of his neck, reached the tips of his fingers, and headed south. A breath that sounded way too close to a whimper stuck in his throat.

He still hadn’t said anything. Panicking, he said, “Thanks,” and hoped that his voice cracking wasn’t as evident as he thought it was. God, his throat was dry. Rhett just got himself off. He did it. 

Link wanted the ground to swallow him whole when Rhett’s expression melted into one of concern, one he’s seen so often when he messed up. He saw it when he fell out of the tree in his back yard and almost snapped his forearm in half. He saw it when his girlfriend broke up with him. He saw it—in an overly dramatic sense—when he held a knife on camera. 

He didn’t hate the expression but when he was nervous, it was the worst thing to see now. Especially seeing it on his own face. It felt weird, but comforting at the same time. He missed his Rhett. Missed his big hands and how warm they were, strong and commanding like he could be when he wanted to.

Rhett stepped over to him, hand coming out to cup Link’s elbow. His hands were too soft, too small. Link could smell his soap, faintly aware of his giddiness of Rhett’s scent on his own skin. He tried to focus on that smell, like pine and stream water and smoky sweetness. It only served to make him more distracted. He wanted to know what it smelled like when it mixed with his own.

Rhett laughed, mellowed, huffed out a breath, “Link, I didn’t jerk you off. Relax.” But he mumbled under his breath something that Link couldn’t quite catch. 

He did catch the twitch of fingers on his elbow and the way Rhett’s eyebrow raised just that small fraction that it did when he lied. Even on his own face, Link knew his best friend. And how he was a fucking liar. 

“You!” he blanched, “You what?” 

He couldn’t believe it. 

“You gave me permission!” 

“I did no such thing.” 

Am I allowed to get you off? 

Uh…Sure.

Link could feel himself spiraling more than when Rhett was still in the shower. Did Rhett do what he normally did on himself? Or did he experiment, his hands roaming and testing different pressures, his breath coming faster when he realized that Link liked feathery light touches followed by rough, sweeping strokes. Jesus, did Rhett take it nice and slow with how long he took in the shower? 

Or was he just trying to figure out how to move in Link’s body and actually enjoy not having to bend his knees to get under the spray of the water. He didn’t have to wait for the heat of the water to release the tension in his back. He could just relax without it.

He laughed, shocking himself with how hysterical it sounded. This was it. He was losing it. He had to be, with how crazy the entire situation was. His best friend was in his body and he was in his best friend’s body. And Rhett jerked him off in the shower. 

He needed sleep, that’s what he needed. He needed to sleep the entire thing off and things would be better tomorrow. Stating as much, Link looked down at Rhett, who had mirth twinkling in his eyes.

He figured they would both be going home, but Rhett moved to climb the ladder to the loft. “Be weird going home to my house as you,” was the only explanation he was given. 

By the time Link kicked himself into gear and climbed the ladder, Rhett had an air mattress stretched flat in between their respective recliners. “More comfortable,” he said, nothing more. His silent laugh was explanation enough. Rhett was clearly quite pleased with himself. 

He threw the plug to the pump to Link, gestured to the wall, and got to straightening it out more so it would be ready. Link could hardly even remember why they even had an air mattress there. Maybe it was for a skit, maybe it was in case something weird happened, maybe it was from when they moved into the studio and didn’t want to splurge on a hotel room for another night. 

Either way, he was grateful and spiteful at their past selves for even keeping it. They’d shared beds before, sure, but how the fuck was he supposed to share a bed with Rhett when he felt like this? Plus, he had to account for all of the added height now to get comfortable and situated and that could take hours. 

By the time Link got out of his own head, the mattress was full of air and Rhett was lounging on it, scrolling through his phone. His shirt was threadbare and slouching against his sides, one half riding up his hip. His left arm was behind his head, elbow in the air off the edge of the mattress. When he noticed Link staring, he glanced up, flashed half of a smile, and patted the space beside him. 

Hating the attention, Link scrambled to lay down and get it over with. He pulled pillows from the chairs on his way down and smacked Rhett with one, earning himself a half-hearted smack to his side. 

But Link was clearly the better person and let it slide. For now. 

It was when he laid down that he really felt the pain in his lower back. The dull but deep-seated ache of it was enough for him to cringe and shift his weight to see about finding a more comfortable position. He tried for a few moments, the mattress groaning with every effort, but nothing seemed to help. 

He understood why Rhett did all of his stretches so consistently if this was normal for him. He glanced up at Rhett, feeling sheepish. How does someone ask how it’s comfortable for them to sleep because you’re in their body without it seeming weird? 

“How do you do this?” he asked. His gestures helped, a gliding hand down his body and then both hands together under his cheek with his eyes closed. At Rhett’s laugh, he did too, stomach bubbling happily. 

Rhett just shook his head like Link was ridiculous. The “you’re such a dork” was silently added in there. Still, he moved to sit up and help, which Link appreciated greatly. “First off,” Rhett said, his hand gesturing for Link to turn over onto his belly, “lemme help a little.” 

The breath punched out of Link so fast he thought he couldn’t ever catch another one when Rhett pushed his fingers right into the part that hurt the most. Skilled hands warmed his muscles, alternating between kneading and digging in the most glorious way. Link felt his body melt under Rhett’s hands. He was putty for whatever Rhett wanted to shape him into. 

“What you want to do is put pressure on it without tensing up the muscle,” he explained. He talked right over the pathetic mewling sounds coming from Link’s mouth. His hands continued to work, but they were moving his body now. He patted a thigh, turned his body so it was sideways, and said, “Up.” 

From there, Link had one leg almost completely straight and the other one curled up, his arms both tucked under the pillow. He closed his eyes and waited for the next instructions. When none came, he relaxed his body more and fell into a spot that seemed comfortable enough to sleep. Only the mattress shifted and dipped when Rhett laid down beside him, an arm snaking around his stomach to pull his middle backwards. 

Rhett was spooning him. He was spooning Link when he was trying to position him into a more comfortable position. And Link? Link was about ready to pass out from holding his breath. The hand on his belly was splayed wide and rested there for a second too long. He almost mentioned it until Rhett tugged him back further, their bodies lining up better than he would have expected.

The man-handling shocked a breathy sound out of him. He felt himself color. 

Rhett moved to sit up a little, his front still plastered to Link’s back. His hand followed his body up, resting on Link’s hipbone. “Better?” Rhett said, his voice smooth like honey, quiet. His mouth was practically on Link’s ear and it sent chills down his spine to feel the breath puff out, just on the heavy side of normal. 

Link nodded because he didn’t trust himself to do anything else. His skin was on fire. The hand returned to his stomach when Rhett set his head down onto his pillow. He thought about telling Rhett how he slept, what way was the most comfortable for him, but stopped himself. Rhett could figure it out by himself. 

“Goodnight, Link.” This time, his breath ticked the hair on the back his neck. 

Link couldn’t stop the full-bodied chill that coursed through him. He didn’t think he would be getting much sleep tonight if this was how it was going to be. He tried to ignore the squeak that came out when he replied with a quick “Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for the support and sorry this update took a while! 
> 
> come and chat with me on tumblr @buddeysystem


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